Seeing Stars
by untiltheveryend24
Summary: "There's no point fighting, Weaselette," he whispered into her ear. "You've lost everything, already."  "Well, that just means now I've got nothing left to lose, do I?"
1. Chapter 1

"Well, well," said Lord Voldemort, as Ginny Weasley was thrusted before him, "If it isn't my good old friend Ginevra."

Ginny was aching all over; she had been captured, abused and tortured for Merlin knows how long. Her cell didn't consist of windows, so she had started to get used to the darkness, therefore the bright lights in the room she was in now gave her a headache. Faint bruises covered her body, her lips chapped and mane of long, red hair unkept.

"Hello, T-Tom." she said, rebelliously, and she could feel the few Death Eaters in the room stirring. Her voice was hoarse from all the screaming she had been doing, but still managed to speak loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Crucio."

She had felt the curse many times now, but never before like this. Every bone in her body was literally set aflame and her mind was melting. She was balling her hands and could feel her fingernails penetrating her palms, drawing blood. There seemed to be no sound coming out of her open mouth, but she was, in fact, screaming.

"You insolent little brat," Voldemort seethed, "You will learn some respect, or your precious blood traitor family will pay the price!"

"H-Hidden," she choked.

"Not anymore, Weasley," he said, and beckoned four hooded figures to come forward. They dropped their hoods, and Ginny gasped. It was her parents, alongside with Percy and Bill. Their eyes had a certain mistiness to them, and didn't seem to recognize her.

"Imperiused," she whispered, then turned to face Voldemort. "Others?"

"Dead." he said with relish, and Ginny's heart sank. She shut her eyes, but tried to stay strong, even though tears were leaking. She cleared her throat.

"Why am I still alive?"

"Would you like to die, Ginevra?"

There was a bit of curiosity in his voice, and Ginny knew it was because he feared death more than anything. She, however, did not. She thought Harry and how he wouldn't want her to give up until she had to. She had lost so much to this man– no, monster– before her, and she did not want to lose herself. She would fight, and die fighting, until her very last breath, just like Harry, Ron, Hermione, and most of her friends had done. She owed it to them and to the rest of the world to try as hard as she could to fight his evil.

Ginny shook her head to his question, eyes still closed.

"Curious," said Voldemort, "Well then, take her, to your son, Lucius. Tell him that the Dark Lord if very pleased."

Her eyes widened in horror and she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out. Draco Malfoy had become a ruthless Death Eater, and was notoriously known for it. He helped train incoming Death Eaters, mostly out-of-Hogwarts students, and was in the Dark Lord's "inner circle", as most called it.

"Of course, my Lord." Lucius Malfoy emerged from the hooded figures, grabbed Ginny's trembling arm and Disapparated.

She staggered onto the floor, feeling sick to her empty stomach because of the hasty Apparation. Her breathing was heavy and rapid, and she could hear footsteps coming their way. Sure enough, she then saw elegant, shiny black shoes in front of her, and a pale blond man staring at her incredulously from above.

"What the..." Draco faced his father directly, "What is this?"

"The Dark Lord wished to give you a gift," Lucius explained, "For your notable performances lately, of course."

"Oh," Draco said, stunned, "I see."

Ginny was slipping in and out of consciousness, but was trying to listen intently on what was happening, since it would decide her fate. Malfoy seemed hesitant and surprised, which struck her as odd, seeing even how she heard of his success from her cell. Some Death Eaters talked about him with admiration in their voice, while others were bitter or jealous. Lucius Malfoy's voice was incomprehensible, though.

"He doesn't bestow these sort of things that often, Draco," said Lucius, "Well...well done, son."

There was a bit of awkwardness in the air, then Draco broke the tension.

"I guess I'll be seeing you later," he said to his father, who then nodded his head and Ginny heard him Disapparate.

Draco sat down on a red velvet chair and put his hands on the back of his neck. He then leaned his head backwards, cracking his neck, and let out a deep sigh. He proceeded to stare at the ceiling for the next few minutes, and the last thing Ginny saw was a malicious smile spreading on his lips and cold blue eyes glancing at her.

Ginny awoke to find herself on the most comfortable bed she had felt in her life. Fluffly, soft silver duvets covered her and about a dozen silver pillows were around her, as well. The bed was enormous, and she realized that it was Draco's. Almost shrieking, she sat upwards and looked around– the room was twice the size of her old room, painted Slytherin green. In a haze, she tried getting off the bed, but didn't realize how high it was off the ground and fell quite noisily. She heard tiny, scurrying feet and saw a house elf in the doorway, with large, turquoise eyes.

"Weaslette must get up, Master said!" it cried.

"Wait– what did you call me?" Ginny said, gaping.

"Master said Weaselette must get up to help Opie with the chores!"

"I'm sure he did," she muttered, "Opie, my name isn't Weaselette, it's Ginny."

"Master said your name is Weaselette, and I must follow what Master says!" Opie said, then held out a tiny hand to help her up.

"Thank you, Opie, but I can get–" she stopped mid-sentence, and looked down to see she was wearing an oversized white t-shirt that reached her knees.

"Opie," she said slowly, "Did you change me?"

"Opie did not, Weaselette!"

Ginny's blood was boiling with rage. How dare he, she thought, and made a mental note to never fall unconscious in this place again.

"Opie was told to give Weaselette a tour of the house!" The elf jumped with excitement, "Master said tomorrow Opie will then go to Master's Family Manor to help the other elves, then Weaselette will take Opie's place!"

"No," objected Ginny, "There is absolutely no way I am serving that git. Never in a million years, and I'm not doing any of those bloody chores he says I have to do!"

"Very well," Opie said, looking crestfallen, "Opie will let Weaselette rest while he does chores. Very many chores today, and Master said if not finished when he returns, there will be whipping! Master told Opie to tell Weaselette that!"

Ginny's jaw dropped, and she quickly scrambled to her feet. Even if the whipping meant only Opie, she still would never let that happen. Opie led her out of the room and into the living room, which she recognized the elegant hardwood floor and lavish velvet furniture. The kitchen consisted of a glass refrigerator and white marble counters, which were sparkling clean. There was a small laundry room with an attached balcony outside, which had clotheslines for letting clothes air dry. There was an invisible shield, however, that prevented her from escaping, according to Opie. The dining room was next to it– one large, rectangular wooden table and fancy chairs. She noticed that there wasn't a guest room, then concluded that Malfoy's overnight guests probably were women who shared the same bed as him. There was one small bathroom, with no shower, completely made of white marble, also.

His own personal bathroom, however, was almost as big as his room. She recognized the same white marble that covered every square inch, and a large tub that was the size of her old bed in the middle of the room. There was also a shower, two sinks and a large mirror that covered almost an entire wall. The toilet was in a separate mini room inside this huge one, and of course, made of the same white marble.

Ginny was handed a mop, bucket and sponge to scrub every surface that she could find, while Opie dusted, vacuumed and cooked. After hours of bending her back and on being on her knees, and much cursing on Ginny's part, she learned much about Malfoy's living arrangement from Opie, who worked alongside her. It turned out, the elf was quite a gossip. He explained how Malfoy usually had dinner company four times a week– "Some of them ladies who stay the night!"– and that he only saw both his parents on holidays. His mother, however, came at least once a week for tea– "Dark, one lump of sugar, Opie knows!"– and usually bearing groceries, since he hated shopping for them.

When she approached a window, Ginny saw that they were a few stories up, in muggle London. Though, she knew that this part of London was inhabited by wizards, and mostly wealthy ones that could afford a luxurious pad so close to many pubs, nightclubs and such. Malfoy, of course, would be attracted to this sort of place, as would any young man would, wizard or not. She saw that there were stairs leading down to the street near the window, and when hokey wasn't looking, she tried to smash the glass with a large rock that was part of a plant in the living room. However, it merely bounced back and made a mark on the hardwood floor, as if the glass was actually elastic.

"Bollocks!" Ginny exclaimed, and tried to scrub off the large scratch, but it didn't recede.

As it started getting dark and Ginny was finished helping Opie with the cooking by cutting up carrots, she was startled by the sound of someone Apparating into the living room, and accidentally cut her finger. It began to bleed, and she turned to ask Opie where the first aid kid was, but he had run after to greet Draco. She refused to go to his beck and call, deciding already that she wouldn't be a willing servant, especially to this specific Death Eater. Blood was seeping out of her finger and she wrapped a paper towel around it, tying it tightly. She could hear Opie greeting his Master with excitement, offering him food, a drink, and taking his coat. Then, when the elf revealed that Ginny was in the kitchen, she heard his footsteps coming her way and she continued cutting the carrots with much more concentration. When the door opened, she didn't look up, but knew he was standing there.

She continued to slice the carrots carefully, so that she wouldn't cut herself, and absorbed herself in the task so that she could forget that he was there. After a few minutes of silence, he started to get impatient.

"You can't cut carrots forever."

Ignoring him, she continued her task, and when she was on her second to last one, she slowed down. He walked over, grabbed her hand with the knife and wrestled it out of her. She was a lot stronger than he thought she would be, especially after spending weeks as the Dark Lord's prisoner, but he still managed to pry it from her fingers. She bit her tongue and turned her head away, but he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"You will look at me when I'm talking to you!" he spat, and she was about to retaliate until she remembered that Opie was still here, and her defiance could bring harm on him. Instead, she merely nodded, and he smirked.

Draco set down the knife on the counter behind her, leaning in. She was repulsed by his closeness, but swallowed and could tell he was enjoying her discomfort. "Weaselette, I thought you'd put up a fight. Good, you're smarter than I thought."

He took out his wand and summoned a bottle of firewhiskey from the decanters and two glasses, then poured them both drinks.

"Have some." he ordered, and when it was in her hand, he made a toast. "To fun times ahead!" Taking a gulp out of the glass, he noticed she was hesitating and instead took a tiny sip.

"Have you eaten anything?"

She shook her head, and he slammed his hand against the marble, but she was unfazed.

"You will speak when you are spoken to," he said, then repeated his question.

"No," she replied, finally looking at him dead in the eye, "I have not."

"Well, you're going to have to wait a bit longer," Malfoy said, "We have guests coming soon and you're going to help me with my bath." Ginny glared at him and he chuckled, pulling her closer. "After that, I'm going to help you become less of a filthy little blood traitor."


	2. Chapter 2

"Your bath is ready." Ginny said, quietly. She had made sure the water was boiling hot, just so that she could see the surprised look on his arrogant face when he stepped in. Draco had shoved her towards the bathtub, telling her to come and tell him when it was ready. When Ginny had walked into the room, he was scribbling on a piece of parchment, furiously. He looked up and smiled.

"Good," he said, walking past her and into the bathroom and she followed. He dipped his hand into the water, but didn't say anything. Instead, he turned to her and said, "This is the exact temperature I want all my baths to be. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I do." Ginny said, inwardly cursing that her prank had not worked.

"Now," he said, holding out his arms, "Undress me."

"What?" she blurted out, and he snickered.

"Undress me, slave, and put the dirty clothes in the laundry basket."

Ginny was outraged, but knew that something like so was coming. His word choice stung her, but she sucked it up with all her might, and knew that it would only be until Opie left that she would rebel against his idiotic whims. With slightly shaking fingers, she started unbuttoning his shirt, trying to think in her mind that he was just a big baby that needed a bath– like the little redheaded cousins she had to babysit. Though, thinking about her family caused her pain and instead starting focusing on the task at hand. When she was done, she bent down to take off his socks, and could feel her face heating with embarrassment, especially when she realized what was going to happen next. Of course, Malfoy was smirking, and hinted he knew when he took out his wand from his pocket. With a clenched jaw, she arose a bit and unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. He stepped out of them, and to her utter disappointment, she saw that was fit.

"You're not finished." Draco said, smirking.

Exhaling sharply, Ginny closed her eyes pulled down his boxers. She glued her eyes to his feet, and to her horror, he stroked her head.

"There's a good little Weasel," he commended, summoned a firewhiskey from his room and stepped into the bathtub. Ginny gathered the clothes from the floor and took them to the laundry basket. When she returned, she saw him, waiting for her.

"I'm sure you know how a bath works?" He raised his eyebrows, "Then again, you are quite a filthy blood traitor, so maybe not."

Ginny trudged over, but held her head up high, took the bar of soap and started washing his back. He smirked and relaxed, drinking from the bottle as she continued down, then onto his chest. She was seething, and he could tell– this experience made it all the more better for him. He noticed she was unnerved by his body, which he knew to be muscular. Working for the Dark Lord as the Head Hunter did that to one; running after muggles and mudbloods took strength and stamina, so going to the gym was part of his routine. Lifting his feet, she washed them while holding them up with her unoccupied hand. When she was done, she then took shampoo and began to wash his hair. Ginny was brutal, but Malfoy seemed to like it. He let out a sigh as she ran her fingers through his blonde hair, adding conditioner, then rinsing it.

"You know," he drawled, "There's some spots on me that you missed."

Ginny glared at him, and he laughed, beckoning her into the bath with his finger. She pursed her lips, angrily, and quickly began removing her clothes. Draco watched as he sipped his firewhiskey. She closed her eyes once she was fully naked, and gripped the soap, making it crack. Stepping into the large bathtub, she began washing the parts he was referring to, determinedly not looking at him. Once she was finished, she was about to leave the tub, but his hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his chest.

"Your turn." he whispered into her ear and she cringed. He was a bit severe, and as hands roamed her body, she tried to hold back her tears of shame. With her hair, he was even more rough, especially when reaching the knots– the Dark Lord's prisons didn't have combs, obviously.

"Do you feel cleaner, now?" he asked.

"No." she said, shaking her head.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Ginny snapped her head up and saw that he was leering at her, but she held her gaze.

"That's more like it. Stay here and finish up, then come out fast to prepare for tonight's guests. If you don't comply, you will be punished."

"Okay."

He reached out and stroked her face with his hand, and she fought the urge to get up, take his wand and hex him. However, she knew that she could not win that fight.

"Refer to me as Master from now on," he said, "Since that's what I am to you."

"Yes, Master." Ginny said, about to lose control.

When he got out of the tub, he took his wand and summoned a towel and wrapped it around his waist, walking into his bedroom and out of sight. She sat in the tub and felt her involuntary tears run down her face, thinking what Harry, Hermione, Ron and her friends and family would think of her. Then again, Harry was dead, and she had heard Hermione and Ron were captured, and figured they probably dead by now. Choking back a sob, since she knew Draco would hear, she clenched her fists. Once she finished her bath and grabbed a towel, she looked around for clothes. Suddenly, Opie Apparated into the bathroom with them in his hand and she staggered backwards, thrown off.

"Master says that Weaselette must wear this, then come help Opie set the table. When guests come, Weaselette must be by door and take coats."

Ginny noticed that it was a plain, petite navy blue dress. To her surprise, Opie was also carrying a fancy black bra and panties that matched. The appropriateness of the dress pleased her, though. Once Opie left, she dried herself and her hair, put on the clothes and looked at herself in the mirror. She was a lot skinnier than before, and her locks of red were now down to her waist. Her once warm brown eyes now looked dead.

Walking out of the room and into his bedroom, she wandered about, getting a good look at it for the first time. There was a desk huddled in the corner, next to two large windows. A wizard picture of him with his parents was framed; the three of them seemed to be having a picnic in a park. Unicorns were prancing behind them, so she assumed it was a wizard reserve.

Like the Malfoys would go to a muggle park, she thought to herself, and snorted.

The similarities between Draco and his father were great, which made her shudder, considering that it was Lucius Malfoy's fault that she had almost been killed by Tom Riddle, also known as the young Dark Lord. Her horrific first year of Hogwarts haunted her, even to this day.

A half hour later and after setting the table, the doorbell rang and Ginny answered it. Malfoy's first guest was, of course, Blaise Zabini. He was as gorgeous as ever, but she knew that behind the pretty dark face was a Death Eater who had almost as notorious of a reputation as Draco. His light eyes widened in surprised when he saw her.

"Weasley? You got Weasley, Draco?" He asked, stepping inside and looking past Ginny at Draco, who was wearing a sharp black suit with a dark green tie.

"I know," he replied, "I was just as surprised, myself."

"The Dark Lord must be pleased," Blaise said, taking off his coat and handing it to Ginny, who placed it in the small closet next to the door, "Was this because of the Ricksburg mission?"

"Probably." he said, then walked over to the living room with Blaise. The doorbell rang again and this time, it was a pair of siblings who Ginny recognized as part of the Bringston family. The two of them had gone to Beauxbatons, and their mother, Eliza Bringston, was the Minister of Magic in France. Their father was killed by members of the Order of the Pheonix when he was aiding the Dark Lord on a mission. He was a Death Eater and English, so they children could speak fairly well English.

"Hello," said Denise Bringston, whose long brown hair was pin straight. She walked in with her brother, who also had brown hair, but caramel colored eyes, unlike his sister's dark ones. He looked tense, as if he didn't want to be there, and hesitated taking off his coat.

"Allons-y, Philippe!" She snapped, and handed Ginny her luscious fur coat that covered her violet dress. Philippe followed her lead and did not make eye contact with Ginny. She heard them being welcomed, and then laughing boisterously. Must be the drinks, she thought.

Ten minutes later, Ginny heard bickering outside the door, and a familiar whiny voice. The doorbell rang and she opened it to see a very pink-faced Pansy Parkinson and a man she did not recognize. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with dirty blonde hair, a stubble beard, and wearing a tailored blue suit. Pansy had dyed her hair black and was wearing large silver heels, a large diamond necklace and a tight green dress with intricate designs. Her mouth's pout turned into a shocked "o" once she saw Ginny. The man with her, however, entered the room normally and handed his coat to her.

"For the love of Merlin, stop being so slow." he snapped at Pansy, who flushed. Ginny was quite astonished that she wasn't throwing insults at her by now.

"S-sorry!" she stammered back, and entered. The man helped take off her jacket and gave it for Ginny to hang. He looked at Ginny and then his gaze traveled to her hair.

"Are you a Weasley, dear?"

"Yes," Pansy answered, before she had the chance to open her mouth, "Her brother was Ron Weasley."

"So, Ginevra, we meet again!" He laughed, and Ginny was confused, since she did not recall his face. "If you don't remember, I–"

"–let's go, William," she interrupted, and he flashed her a look of annoyance, "We're late already." He glared, but still walked with her into the other room, his hand sliding around her waist.

After fifteen minutes passed, to which Ginny used to ponder who the nameless man was, she assumed that they were the last of the guests and headed towards the kitchen to aid Opie. Though, it was really an excuse to hide from the guests and Draco.

It turned out that the meal was already prepared, so she was able to sit down for a moment, before it was time to serve.

"Opie?" she asked the elf, "Who is that man in the blue suit?"

"Weaselette must be talking about Master William Anderson. Master William is the newly elected Vice Prime Minister, previously Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"How does he know Draco?"

"Master Draco worked for him when he was Head. Master Draco is Head Hunter, now."

"You cannot be serious!" Ginny exclaimed, knowing exactly what Hunters did. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair– Malfoy really did not have a heart.

"Weaselette must serve, now!" exclaimed Opie and handed her the appetizers. When she walked into the room, everyone was chatting amongst themselves. Draco was talking with William and looked up at Ginny. She tried not to meet his eyes, and focused on the task at hand, biting the inside of her lip to keep from swaying from her silent act.

"So, Draco, I see you've finally gotten yourself a servant." said Denise.

"Actually, Miss Weasley was from the Dark Lord," corrected Blaise, "He was holding this one for quite a while."

"This couldn't be Ginny Weasley, Potter's love interest?" Denise cocked an eyebrow.

"Your knowledge of gossip never ceased to amaze me," mused Malfoy, "This is the one."

"My, my, the Dark Lord must be very pleased with you, Draco. Very pleased, indeed."

The group began to eat, and Ginny stood in the corner with a bottle of wine for refilling, cursing herself for almost falling apart at the mention of her and Harry's relationship. She missed him so much, and in the prison, she contemplated allowing herself to die. She couldn't bear to live in a world without him, but then again, he would have wanted her to fight. Sometimes she pretended that he was beside her, giving her advice on what to do and how to deal with everything around her. Her dreams constantly revolved around him, along with her family and friends, either of the war or ones where they are all at the Burrow, eating a meal and laughing. After those dreams, she would generally wake up crying more than the nightmares.

"How did she end up in the Dark Lord's prison?" inquired Philippe, and Ginny noticed he had more of a pronounced French accent than his sister.

"William, here, was actually responsible for that." said Draco, and a jolt went through Ginny.

"Well she was stirring up some trouble," He began, and winked at her. She stared at him with anger; this was the man who initiated the mission for her arrest and tracked her down, then succeeded. They had dueled, vigorously, but she had lost. The last thing she remembered was blacking out when he sent a dark curse at her, and then waking up in the prison with much, much pain. At the time, he was wearing a mask, so she didn't recognize him.

"Especially in school, and even in the prison– people were upset that she was taken, sort of saw her as a figurehead after Potter, almost. You were quite elusive, you know. I was the one you were hexing."

"She has a marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex," said Blaise, "Was known for it at Hogwarts. Did she send that upon you?"

"Didn't give her the chance," he said, smugly, "Knocked her out after a good few minutes of dueling. She put up a good fight, I have to give her that, though."

"Complimenting someone on their dueling skills, are we?" Pansy raised her eyebrows, "That's a first."

William shrugged, "She deserves it."

When everyone was finished, Ginny cleared their plates and made a few trips to bring out and serve the main course. When she reached Anderson, she was trembling so violently that she almost dropped the plate onto his lap. Nobody noticed, since they were too busy chattering.

"There's no need to be scared, love." he murmured.

"I'm not." she said, quietly, and tried proceeding to the next person but he held her back by her wrist.

"What did you say?"

"I'm not scared." she repeated, and he chuckled, releasing her.

"Of course you aren't." he muttered. Ginny then served Denise and Philippe their meals, pretending not to notice that Draco was watching her. He did not miss her and William's exchange, that was obvious.


	3. Chapter 3

Throughout the evening, Ginny noticed that the stereotype of the elite Pureblood was broken. True, they all did believe that they were superior, however, they barely mentioned how mudbloods and muggles were "scum"– it must have been one of those things that was such a common thought now that it needed worth not mentioning. All she had to do was refill drinks and stand around while they talked about frivolous things. Ginny tried listening in on the conversation Denise, Draco and William were having about another mission the Dark Lord was planning, but Pansy and Blaise laughing too loud. Parkinson had brought a new Weird Sisters record and played it; memories resurfaced, especially from the Yule Ball.

Nostalgia overwhelmed her when she remembered her date, Neville, whom she considered one of her best friends. She had no idea what had happened to him, now, since the last time she saw him was the day before she got captured. The two of them had restarted Dumbledore's Army, focusing against the Dark Lord's reign. Before she had been caught, the DA had around a hundred or so members, all willing to help in any way, wether it be fighting or tending to the wounded. Neville and Ginny generally led missions, but the day before Voldemort found her they had decided to do a mission separately, since Voldemort had planned to attack two different towns in Germany. This was because Dumbledore's Army was on his trail and consistently messed up his plans. Ginny had realized in the cell that the main purpose of doing a double attack was to separate the Resistance, and inwardly cursed herself countless times for coming up with the idea. Then again, her team did end up saving the down and themselves, but at a cost– her imprisonment.

Her mind wandering, she recognized a song that had played at the Yule Ball– Pansy must have changed the record. Ginny never forgot how handsome Harry looked in his green dressrobes, and how Ron looked in his horrid ones. She refrained from laughing at the image, and even though it was funny, it made her even more sad. The robes were probably destroyed, along with all of her family's possessions and home. Sighing painfully, she came back to reality.

Philippe was the only one of the group who seemed a bit uneasy. He laughed at Blaise's jokes, unsteadily, and fidgeted with the napkin on his lap. When they were finished with their dessert and Ginny was clearing the plates, she felt his eyes on her. As she picked up his, he was on the verge of speech, but was interrupted by Blaise announcing his wish for everyone to retire to the living room. The younger Bringston followed suit.

Ginny took the plates to the kitchen and, with Opie's help, began washing them.

"That was a very lovely dinner, Opie," she complimented.

"Weaselette is very kind," the elf replied, "Opie is now sad that he is leaving. Weaselette will have to be all alone."

"I know," Ginny said, ruefully, then proceeded to scrub the plates with more force. "Opie, do you know anything about Philippe Bringston?" He shook his head.

"Master Bringston is very quiet. Not a Death Eater, but the Dark Lord cares not. The Dark Lord has enough at his command. Very quiet one, very quiet, indeed."

"He must have something to hide, then," she speculated.

When the clock struck midnight and the two of them were done cleaning the dining room and the dishes, Ginny saw this as an opportunity to finally eat. She had been shaking with hunger for the past hour, and felt faint, until a plate of food suddenly appeared before her.

"Weaselette must eat!" the elf cried, and before she had a chance to thank him, her hunger took over her senses and she began stuffing herself. It was delicious food– roast beef, chicken, squash, pasta– almost as good as her mother's cooking. Her heart sank, remembering that as of now, her mother was under the Imperius curse to do Voldemort's bidding. Angry tears formed in her eyes and wiped them away, knowing that soon the guests would be leaving and she would have to hand them their coats.

"Damn you," she whispered, to Malfoy, Voldemort, and mostly herself for being so weak. "Damn you, damn you, damn it all."

She could hear the shuffling of feet and the goodbyes, so she went to the door to hand out the guests' belongings. Draco smirked when she walked in, and she figured it was because he expected her to not comply with her duties as a servant. However, Ginny knew what was at stake, and would comply until her family was free. Then, she would not hesitate to unleash her anger by punching the sod's smirk off his face.

"Goodbye! We had a wonderful time, Draco!" said Pansy, as she took her coat.

"Yes, wonderful," repeated William, who gave a knowing look to Ginny. She glowered at him, almost thrusting the coat into his hand. "See you soon, fair Ginevra," he nodded to her and she bit her tongue hard to not respond. He laughed at her expression, then followed his date out the door.

"Thank you for the invitation, Draco," said Denise.

"Thank you for coming, Denise," he said, then turned to Philippe. "And for bringing your brother– a nice surprise," he added.

"Thanks," said Philippe, tightly, "I had fun."

"Oh, I'm sure," Draco mused, "Send your mother my regards."

"Of course," he said, as he took his coat. Then he pulled something out of his pocket and looked a bit abashed– his napkin from dinner. "Very sorry, I have a bad habit of fiddling with things."

"We all have our bad habits," said Blaise, sounding a bit drunk, then proceeded to talk to Draco and Denise about his own.

Looking Ginny in the eye, he handed the folded napkin to her, and she took it, hesitantly. There was something odd about him, she was sure, but could not tell if it was in her favor or not. Once she handed Blaise his quote, she walked to the kitchen to throw the napkin away. But when she opened it up, her heart stopped.

In messy handwriting was four powerful letters: LLDA. Ginny knew that it meant "Long Live Dumbledore's Army" and felt hope stirring inside of her. Philippe, a very powerful and influential figure, was on her side! Her mind was reeling; did Neville hire him to make sure that she was okay? Was Neville even alive? Is the DA still as strong? Would Philippe help her escape? Was he a part of the DA? He had to be, since nobody else would know the four letters and what they mean.

She hid the napkin in the drawer where pots were kept, knowing that she had to dispose of it eventually so that Philippe would not be harmed. Draco would never open the drawer, since he did not cook for himself. Figuring that she had to close the door, she went back to the living room where Draco was standing in front of the large windows that overlooked the city.

"Fetch me a drink, Weaslette."

She almost yelled "Fetch it, yourself!" but did as she was told. When she handed it to him, he sipped it, slowly, then held it out for her.

"Have some," he said, but when she shook her head, he added "That's an order."

She took a sip, then held it out for him. Draco snatched it back, but merely twirled it around in his hand.

"What did you think of tonight?" he asked, but it sounded more like a demand to her.

"It wasn't that bad," Ginny replied, before she could stop herself. He raised his eyebrows.

"How so?"

"Well," she paused, "Everyone looked like they were having fun."

"Lie number one," he said, "That Bringston boy wasn't. I, for one, know the way one acts when they don't want to be somewhere. Did you have fun?"

"What do you think," she snapped, but then added "Master?" so he wouldn't get angry. He chuckled cruelly.

"I think you had the time of your life, doing what you deserve. Tell me now, why aren't you afraid of Anderson?"

"Why should I fear him? He's just a man with a mask."

"A man with a mask who's killed many, captured you and gave you to the Dark Lord."

"And why should I fear him?" she repeated, "He's a man with twisted judgment and has done terrible things. I'm not afraid of him, I hate him. With fear comes hatred, but if you have hate you need not have fear."

Draco pursed his lips, then took a sip of his drink.

"So, Ginevra Weasley," he said, and her name coming out of his mouth sent a jolt through her, "Which of the two do you feel towards me?" His eyes were boring into hers, but she still kept her head held high.

"I don't fear you, Malfoy," she said, voice unwavering, glaring into grey, "I never will."

He dropped his drink, which landed on the floor with a crash– firewhiskey, ice and glass beside their feet. Then, he lunged at her, but she was fast and ducked under him.

"Oh, no you don't," he growled, and he grabbed her arm as she tried to run. He pulled her into his chest, and then Apparated the two of them to his bedroom.

"NO!" She screamed, as he threw her down onto mattress, knowing what he was trying to do. "Stop– no!" She tried to sit up, but he pinned her down with his weight.

"Fear me yet?" His mouth was so close to her face she could smell a mixture of his cologne and firewhiskey from his breath.

"G-get off of me, you wanker!" she yelled, trying to push her back with his fists.

"Looks like Potty isn't going to come save the day now, is he?" he slurred, "Boy Wonder isn't going to save you from another big bad man getting inside you, again?"

"You're a pathetic little monster," she seethed and struggled against him, and finally let her mouth run, "If this is what you have to resort to getting a girl to sleep with you, then I–" she was interrupted by his lips over hers. He ravished her mouth and she tried biting him off, but he merely laughed.

"There's no point fighting, Weaselette," he whispered into her ear, his hands now running through her hair. "You've lost everything, already."

"Well, that just means now I've got nothing left to lose, do I?" she said, but knew that was a downright lie– some of her family was still alive, or as alive as they could be under Voldemort's reign. Though the chances were looking slimmer by the days of him being overthrown, she remembered Philippe's napkin and a surge of energy went through her. Once again she tried pushing him off, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head.

"You need to remember your place."

He captured her in another searing kiss, but then yelled in agony– she had kneed him between his legs. Cussing like mad, he rolled off her, and she took her chance to run. Where exactly, she didn't know, but it was better than just taking it, in her eyes.

Once she made it to the living room, Ginny heard him stomping behind her and ran towards the laundry room, locking the door behind her. She knew that with his wand he would easily be able to break in, but it was worth a shot.

"You're making things difficult," she heard Draco call, almost tauntingly. "And I'm sure the Dark Lord wouldn't be happy to hear of it. Might even take it out on your pathetic blood traitor fam–"

That was crossing a line. Ginny knew he was trying to provoke her, but it had worked. To her delight, she saw a large, metal rod sitting in the corner and took it with trembling hands. Quietly opening the door, she saw that his back was facing towards her, so she cautiously took light steps towards him and pulled the rod back. In mid swing, he turned around shot a spell at her, sending her flying backwards and into the wall. She tried to stand up, but he was already there, in front of her. He grabbed her throat with his hand, bringing her to her knees, and she began choking. After waiting a long, painful moment, he released her, but instead of allowing her to fall to the floor, he grabbed a fist of her flaming red hair and pulled up.

"What were you planning to do with that bar, hm?" he hissed in her ear, causing her to squirm, "Hoping to knock me out? Kill me?"

"Yes," she answered truthfully. Her voice was hoarse, but her defiance was blatant. She looked him in the eye, and said through clenched teeth "Let me go, Malfoy!"

He brought his wand up to her throat and pressed hard.

"That's Master to you, Weaslette," he said, his voice hard.

"Never," she said, then spit in his face.

To say he snapped would be an understatement.


End file.
